


Hidden in the Sand

by ArielAquarial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brotherly Bonding, Cockblock Sam Winchester, Day At The Beach, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Lifeguard Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Dean tries to drive down to Palo Alto as often as he can to spend quality time with Sam. This time, things are different. Not only is he secretly apartment hunting only a city away, but he's finally getting the chance to fish on the beach instead of a rickety old pier. Despite Sam's warning about stingrays, Dean insists everything will be fine and heads into the water without a care. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Hidden in the Sand

No one who met Dean could say that he didn't love his brother. He talked about Sam constantly, whether it be about his stellar grades, his beautiful girlfriend, or his job prospects. Dean visited him as much as he could, although it wasn't near as often as he wanted. The drive was a hard one, spanning at least two days of driving, and put him out a few hundred dollars in gas, hotel, and food, and sleeping on the couch sucked, but the sacrifice was worth it to have an uninterrupted week with Sam.

One of Dean’s favorite things about going to Palo Alto was the beach trips. As children, their mom and dad took them to the coast the first week of every summer vacation. They gorged themselves on ice cream, ate at cool restaurants, and visited interesting state parks. They always came back a week later horribly sunburned but deeply satisfied. When Mary died, the tradition had stopped. John didn’t have it in him to take the kids alone, and Sam was too young to care. It seemed like Dean was the only one who missed their yearly vacation.

With Sam at Stanford, it gave him the perfect excuse to check on his brother and dig his toes into the warm sand on a daily basis. Thankfully, Sam was more than willing to indulge his older brother. He was a bodyboarder, so he loved squeezing himself into a wetsuit, pulling on a pair of fins, and using his board to ride the waves back to shore only to do the whole thing again for hours on end. Dean preferred to recline on a beach chair and bask in the sun, only venturing to the water if it got too hot.

Sure, they had tons of lakes in rivers in Lawrence, but nothing beat the silky feeling of warm sand under your feet, the salty breeze, and the hot sun beating down on you. He loved it so much that after he finished his week at Sam’s studio apartment, he was planning on driving the thirty minutes to San Jose for an interview, and if all went well, to apartment hunt. Not that he was going to tell his brother any of that. He’d wait until the last second or maybe just show up to his apartment out of the blue. The bitchface Sam was guaranteed to give him would be worth it.

As usual, the week was adding up to being amazing. Every morning Sam woke Dean up just as the sun was rising, and rushed him out of the door for a morning at the beach. When they were done with the beach, Sam took him to all of his favorite restaurants, gave him a tour of his campus, and took him to interesting parts of town. 

On the last day of his vacation before he had to go on his secret apartment hunt, Sammy shook his shoulder at 6:30 in the morning, already in his board shorts with a stuffed tote bag thrown over his shoulder. Dean sat up from the couch and put up his usual protest at being woken for all of thirty seconds before Sam placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of him and looked at him expectantly. “I’ll go without you if you want to watch Netflix all morning.”

Dean reached out to flick his brother’s forehead, but Sam deftly avoided the move. “You’re an ass, Sammy. The sun isn’t even out yet.”

“You say this every morning. It's going to be in the high 80’s today so I want to beat the crowd. Do you want my spare bodyboard?”

He shook his head and took a sip of the coffee. Sam could have all the fun he wanted on that thing, but Dean preferred to have his feet on the ground. “Hell, no.”

“Aren't you going to be bored just sitting there? Come on, you’ve been doing that all week. Have a little fun.”

Dean looked at him like he was an idiot, saying “I love sitting on my ass all day.”

“Fine.” He turned to leave so Dean could change. “You know, I was going to give you some good news, but if you’re going to be an ass...”

“Now _you’re_ being an ass.”

He smirked. “We’re going somewhere new today. You can actually fish on the beach at this one.”

That perked him the hell up. “I thought we could only fish off the piers.”

“Well, you can at the beach we’re going to. No one swims there because of the tide pools. One big wave and you’re, well….”

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up an hour ago, then? Let's get the fuck out of here!” He put his coffee down and sprung to his feet, letting the old quilt fall to the floor. “Can we grab breakfast burritos on the way?”

Sam laughed at the abrupt shift in attitude. “Fishing pole and tackle box are in the closet, but you should check it before we leave. I have some shrimp in the freezer we can bring so we don’t have to stop for bait on the way.”

Dean had never moved so fast at 6:30 in the morning. They were at the beach by 7 am, beating the heat and most of the crowd. It was a secluded cove, only accessible through a narrow set of stairs and barely large enough for one lifeguard tower, already occupied by a dark-haired man in the signature red shorts. He was too far away for Dean to get a good look at him, which was a damn shame. He’d have to head that way a little later, hopefully before the shift change. What could he say? Red trunks and tan skin did it for him.

They took the time to lay out their towels and lather on sunscreen before Dean sat to relax. Sam grabbed his fins and his board before turning to Dean.

"Make sure you stay out of the water, ok?"

Dean scoffed. "No fucking way. If I stay on the shore, the fishing will be shit. Go big, or go home."

Sam shook his head in exasperation. “Fine, but don’t forget the stingray shuffle. A friend of mine was here a few days ago and he was saying that it was pretty bad out there.”

“Stingray shuffle?” Dean chuckled and started cutting the shrimp into smaller pieces. “Is that some kind of ritualistic dance?”

“No, you just…” he shuffled his feet in the sand. “You gotta scare them away.”

“I’ll only be in up to my knees.”

“That won't make a difference. Just shuffle in and you’ll be okay. He said that he saw—”

He cut Sam off. “Just get your ass in the water and leave me alone.”

Sam just shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

After a few minutes of basking in the sun, he stripped out of his t-shirt, zipped his phone into his shorts, and made his way to the shore with the fishing pole and bait in hand. The weather had truly outdone itself today. The sky was blue, the breeze was cool, and the water was even clearer than normal. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the horizon as he made his way into the water. The warmth soaked into his bones, undoing the pain of sleeping on his brother’s couch for a week. If he paid any attention to the water below him, he would have seen the little round rays shooting away from their hiding places under the sand as he disturbed them with each careless step. Dean made it to a decent spot and cast his line a handful of yards in front of him. With the warm sun on his skin and a rod in his hand, he knew his day was going to be amazing.

His first few nibbles were fruitless, but he blamed it on being out of practice. Timing was everything, and the last time he went fishing was months ago. When the fourth nibble came along, he was ready. With a flick of his wrist, he hooked the fish and began the short process of reeling it in. It was a small pathetic thing, nothing to write home about, so he unhooked it with a frown and tossed it back into the water. The next one would be better, he told himself. He took a step forward in preparation to recast, but just as he stepped onto the sand, there was a flutter of movement and then sharp pain.

Dean yelped loudly and staggered. Fuck, it felt like he stepped right onto broken glass. With trepidation, he took a deep breath and brought his foot out of the water to take a peek, expecting a lot of gore. There was no blood, no glass, and no outward show of injury, but still, the pain radiated up his foot, throbbing and stinging with every beat of his heart. He bent at the waist, attempting to even out his breathing and get through the shock of such sudden and intense pain. He waited, hoping that the pain would fade, but it stayed steady.

“Fuck!” He cursed to himself. It wasn’t going away and if he didn’t know any better, it was getting _worse_. The feeling of glass in the skin just behind his big toe was spreading, going up the ball of his foot What the fuck? His foot looked fine, albeit a little red in the spot pain was radiating from, but there wasn’t even a scrape!

He took a shuffling step towards the shore, still hunched over in pain as he held onto his fishing pole like a walking stick. With his eyes on the water, he could see a small ray shoot out from the sand in front of him, zipping away to safety, then another, and another. Sam’s words came crashing back into his head. ‘ _Just shuffle in and you’ll be fine_ ’.

“You little fuckers!” He hissed at the water. With more care, he let his feet drag through the sand, not once lifting them his entire way to the shore. The process was slow and painful, but in less than a minute, he let himself collapse onto his knees and roll to his back.

He groaned and cursed, surprised that the pain was getting worse. His entire calf was being stabbed with needles, and glancing at his toe, he could see it had become a little puffy. He needed to get to his towel so he could grab a cold water bottle for his toe. Dean didn’t know if it would work, but he had to do _something._ He crab-walked a few feet back but collapsed again in pain. It hurt too much to continue, and he couldn’t put any pressure on his foot without it feeling like it was going to break into a million pieces.

“Dean?” his brother’s voice broke through the pain, and he groaned loudly in response. “Shit, are you ok? I saw you bent over and I got worried.”

Dean’s stomach rolled and he knew tears were beginning to leak from his eyes. “No!”

Cold water dripped onto his chest and he knew it was from his brother crouching over him. He couldn’t even complain because no annoyance could be as bad as the pain he was experiencing. “What happened?”

He pried open his watery eyes to glare at his brother. “What do you think?”

It took him a moment, but his gaze drifted to Dean’s feet. “I told you to—”

“Not now, Sam,” he moaned in discomfort. “Fuck, I’m going to puke…”

“On a scale of one to ten, how—”

“A fucking ten!” he yelled at his brother, extremely thankful that the morning’s crowd was so spread out. Any other beach would have had them packed next to each other like sardines. The last thing he wanted was to draw a crowd. If he was going to die, at least it was going to be without an audience.

His brother was mumbling to himself. “What do I do? Fuck, I’ve never been stung before. Damnit, Dean. If you would have just listened—”

“Not _now_ , Sam!” He rolled over to his side and panted into the sand, trying not to throw up. Never before had he been in so much pain, and it showed no sign of stopping.

“Pee!” Sam shouted. “I have to pee on it, right?”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he was suddenly 100% sure he was going to lose his breakfast. “Oh, no. Fuck, no. Get the hell away from me!”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to pee on a ray sting. That’s what they say, right? It was in an episode of _Friends_ , remember? Monica got stung and Chandler had to pee on it.”

To Dean’s utter horror, he realized Sam was dead serious about peeing on him. “Cut it off.”

“What?”

“Cut my fucking leg off, there’s no way I’m letting you pee on me.”

“Dean, be reasonable. It’s just a little pee, no big—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you.”

“Well, if you would have listened to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be here! Stingray venom—”

“Venom?” he shrieked, voice higher than he intended. As if in reaction to Dean’s panic, the pain got impossibly worse. “Did you just say ‘ _venom_?’”

“It's not going to kill you, calm down. Now, on a scale of one to ten—”

“Still a ten, bitch!”

“You have to let me pee on it, then. That’s the only thing that will make it better!”

“I swear to god, if you take one step closer, I’ll—"

“Excuse me,” a deep voice cut in, “do you need help?”

Dean’s eyes landed on a pair of tan calves, thick with muscle. With a gulp, he took in red swim shorts, a flat stomach, and broad shoulders. The lifeguard’s face was straight out of his dreams. Blue eyes stood out in stark contrast to dark hair and tan skin, sharp cheekbones, an even sharper jawline, and lips that were full and chapped by the sun. He _almost_ forgot about the pain.

“Oh, thank god…” His idiot of a brother turned to the lifeguard. “You gotta help me. We need to pee on Dean’s foot!”

“Sam!” Dean yelled, mortification turning him red from the neck up. “You’re not peeing on me!”

The lifeguard looked back and forth between Dean and his brother, and then finally to his foot. With pinched eyebrows, the man knelt to examine his swollen toe, now almost twice the size that it was normally. “My name is Castiel, can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m Sam and this is Dean.” Sam pointed to the injury, his finger a little too close for comfort. “A stingray got him so we need to pee on it. Now, I haven’t had much water this morning, but…”

Castiel stood and turned to regard Sam. “Please don’t pee on him. I’ll have to remove you from the beach if you do.”

Fuck, he could kiss the man. Maybe when he didn’t feel like he was dying, he could get his number.

“But the sting!” Sam pleaded. “We have to do something!”

“There is nothing in urine that will help your brother.”

“But I heard—”

“Sam, stop arguing with the lifeguard! He knows what he’s doing, ok?” Dean pleaded. He needed his foot better _yesterday_ , and if Castiel had answers that didn’t involve his brother peeing on him, he sure as hell was going to listen!

“The longer we argue about the need to pee on Dean, the longer he will be in pain. How long ago was the sting?”

“A few minutes, five at the most.” Sam, unable to let a subject drop, plowed on. “Why do people say to pee on it? This seems like important information!”

“Please keep your—” he glanced at Dean, ignoring Sam. “—friend company while I get the necessary supplies.”

Dean watched him jog off. “Brother! I’m his brother!” he turned to Sam. “Do you think he heard me?”

Sam’s smile appeared slowly. “Why do you need him to know I’m your brother?”

“Can you shut up? I can barely fucking think right now. Fuck, my toe looks like it has a cartoon bee sting. What if my toe falls off?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

He groaned in pain and rubbed at his eyes, hoping to get rid of any errant tears before the lifeguard came back. “I never wanted to know what a ten felt like.”

“Is it a throbby or stabby kind of pain?”

“It’s the ‘I’m going to murder you if you don’t stop asking dumb questions’ kind of pain. Now quit making me talk or I might throw up on you.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely the lifeguard will kiss it better…”

“Shut up!” He hissed, craning his neck to watch Castiel disappear into his tower. “I’m already having a shit morning, so don’t ruin this for me! Castiel, was it? Fuck, he looks good in those shorts.”

Sam widened his eyes, activating his puppy dog face. “Don’t get started, Dean. Leave the poor guy alone.”

“I didn’t do anything yet. Just stay the fuck out of it.”

Sam squinted at him. “Just remember you’re leaving in a week.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his brother about the job offer that he’d already accepted, but everytime he opened his mouth his stomach clenched. “Can you just shut up for ten seconds so I can die in peace? Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll give me mouth to mouth.”

“You’re not going to die, stop being so dramatic. God, Dean. Even in pain, you’re still thinking with your dick.”

Dean was _definitely_ going to aim any vomit at Sam’s feet. “Go into the water and pick a fight with a stingray _then_ tell me I’m being dramatic!”

“Well, I was smart enough to—” Sam trailed off and glanced towards the tower. “Oh, good… he’s coming!”

Dean couldn’t help himself and craned his neck to take in the sight. And what a sight it was. It was like a scene from Baywatch, slow motion and everything. He was carrying a plastic bucket, bicep bulging from the weight of whatever was inside. As he trudged through the sand with as much speed as he could muster, the muscles of his legs flexed beneath his tanned skin, and if Dean looked hard enough, he could see the slight bounce of his pecks. Even the wind seemed to caress him, throwing his wild brown locks off of his forehead and giving him an unobstructed view of the guy’s face.

A hot lifeguard, it seemed, was the best painkiller.

The lifeguard dropped to his knees next to Dean’s foot and set the bucket down. “Please help him sit up.”

Sam did what he was told, hooking his arms under Dean’s armpits and hoisting him up. He bit back a goran and swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. If he threw up in front of the lifeguard he would die of embarrassment.

Intense blue eyes met his. “May I touch you? I need to get your foot in the bucket.”

Dean spoke up before Sam could volunteer. “Yeah, go ahead.”

With gentle hands, the lifeguard cupped his heel and slowly picked his foot up. Dean tensed as his foot was lowered into the bucket, unsure what, if anything, would happen. Warmth met his foot, and— “Oh. Oh, god.”

Two sets of eyes turned to Dean’s face, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the way his mouth opened in a gasp. He knew he made quite the image, but he couldn’t help his reaction to the feeling of such intense relief.

“Does it hurt?” Sam asked, interrupting the near orgasmic feeling of relief.

He ignored his brother and let out another moan. The pain wasn’t gone, but it was the first time he felt the pain lessen since the sting. Forget kissing the lifeguard, he was going to marry the man.

“It looks like it’s working.”

Dean nodded in agreement and pried his eyes open to watch the lifeguard. “I think I love you.” The lifeguard frowned and Sam bit back a laugh, letting Dean know that he said that outloud. “Shit, sorry. I mean, it still hurts, but it’s getting a little better.”

“I’m glad to hear it. We can continue until the water cools and then I’ll give you a to-go bag. When you get home, please take a hot bath and stay in until the pain is gone. Should only take a couple of hours.”

“To-go bag?” Sam questioned.

“Just a small plastic bag we can fill with warm water for your car ride home.”

“That’s awesome.” There were a few moments of silence between them before Sam cleared his throat. “So the urine thing… It doesn’t work?”

“Urine will work in a pinch if there are no other options, but lifeguards are trained to treat stings on-site so it’s a good thing you were here. Warm water breaks up the proteins in the venom and will relieve the pain, no need to urinate on anyone. It’s a common myth.”

The giant nerd hummed in understanding. “That’s very interesting. Do you get many stings here?”

“Every few days. Most of the visitors are aware of the stingrays, especially in the summer.”

“Yeah, I told my brother about the stingray shuffle—”

“Thanks, Sammy!” Dean interrupted. “Why don’t you start packing our shit up?”

Sam rolled his eyes and gave him a look, but did as he was told and began the process of packing the towels and Dean’s fishing supplies. Dean turned back to Castiel and tried to smile through the lingering pain. “Sorry about him.”

“He’s fine. And how are you feeling?”

He was feeling a little light headed, and it wasn’t because of the pain anymore. How anyone could handle being the sole recipient of Castiel’s attention, Dean had no clue. “It’s a lot better, man. Thank you.”

“Its nothing.”

Dean’s mind was working hard to find a topic. “So, uh… You live around here?”

The man nodded. “I do. It makes the 6 am shift a little more bearable.”

Dean shook his head in sympathy. “That sucks. I work at a garage, and we don’t start until 8.”

“Mechanic?”

Dean grinned. “Restoration.”

Cas’s face showed appreciation and Dean’s belly fluttered in response. “That’s wonderful. I have a classic car. I’ve never had the money to have it properly restored, but I try my best to take care of it.”

“What do you got?”

“A ‘78 Continental.”

Dean decided he wouldn’t hold it against him. “Awesome. I have a ’69 Chevy Impala. I spend a lot of hours on her, but she’s worth it.”

Maybe it was hope, but Dean thought there was interest in his gaze, if the way his eyes scanned Dean’s face was anything to go by. Unfortunately, he could feel that the water was starting to cool and he felt a pang of sadness that they would have to head back so soon after meeting the lifeguard. Maybe he could convince him to get Dean a fresh bucket of warm water so he could be with the man just a little longer.

“An Impala? I don’t believe I’ve seen one before.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” He unzipped his pocket and pulled out his old phone. “Let me educate you…”

He scrolled through his photos and turned it to face Castiel. The man nodded and made impressed noises, earning him even more points. “She’s beautiful. You clearly care for her.”

Sam chose that exact moment to walk by. “Showing off your car?”

Dean shot him a glare. “You’re just jealous. That little Corolla of yours doesn’t hold a candle to my baby.”

In retaliation, Sam shoved his hand into the bucket, loudly declaring that the water was cooling and that they needed to get Dean home.

Without the heavy bucket, Castiel made quick work of the jog to the tower. Amazingly, the view from the back was just as good as the front. It almost erased his anger at his brother for making him leave.

“When he comes back, make yourself scarce.”

Sam gave him a bitchface. “He’s just doing his job.”

“See how he was talking to me? Definitely more than just doing his job.”

“Small talk is a thing, you know…”

Castiel was back a minute later, bag of water in hand. The clear plastic had cartoon stingrays printed all over with smiles on their little faces. He held it up and gestured to Dean’s foot. “Can I help you with this, or would you prefer your brother?”

Dean smiled widely at Castiel. “You’re fine.”

“Sam, would you please pull your car up to the stairs? The water wont stay warm for long, so we need to get him home as quickly as possible. I can help him to the car.”

Sam glanced between the two and gave Dean a _look_. One that clearly told Dean to _leave the guy alone!_ Dean just smiled at him and gave him a little wave. Castiel didn’t say much as he held the bag open for Dean to slide his foot in. Once it was secured, he allowed the lifeguard to help him to his feet. With one arm thrown over the Cas’s sun-warm shoulders, they slowly made their way to the stairs.

“Do you live close?” Castiel asked him. “I’m worried the water will cool before you get home.”

“I’m staying with my brother. He’s only fifteen minutes away.”

“That’s good. Do you live with him?”

Dean smiled in triumph. Sam’s _small talk_ comment was so full of shit. “I’m actually visiting from Kansas.”

Dean knew he wasn’t imagining the way Cas’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“But I just got a job in San Jose, and I’m going to start next month. I’m actually beginning the apartment hunt tomorrow.”

“That’s pretty close.”

“It is.”

They made it to the stairs in a three-legged wobble before Cas spoke again. “Despite the stingrays, this is a beautiful cove. There are some tidepools on the left side and most tourists stick to the larger beaches so we’re never very crowded. You should give it another chance.”

“Aw, you want me to come back?”

Cas was thoughtful as they paused for a moment to catch their breath, already halfway up the steps. Dean was already amazed at Cas’s strength, his attraction to the man ratcheting that much higher. “Yes, I do.”

Dean huffed at Cas’s bluntness. “Well, Cas… I can do you one better. How about you give me your phone number. I wouldn’t want to drop by while _another_ lifeguard is on duty. I’m pretty partial to this one.”

They started up again, Cas climbing the step and supporting most of his weight as Dean hopped up. “Are you?”

“Yeah, he saved me. Swooped in like an angel and healed me with his magical bucket of water.”

Dean could see Cas’s cheeks pull up in a pleased smile. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“If it weren’t for you, my brother woulda peed on me.”

“I guess I really did save you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you really did.” At the crest of the stairs, Dean could see Sam’s shiny silver Toyota waiting. Shit, he was running out of time. “You’ll have to let me make it up to you somehow. So, about that phone number…”

“I supposed I can give it to you. I wouldn’t want you showing up when I’m not here to check up on you. Maybe I could even show you around town, if your brother hasn’t already done it. There’s a nice coffee shop I like to go to after my shift.”

“It’s a date, then.” He said it out of habit, and immediately regretted it. Dean was just about to open his mouth and awkwardly backtrack, but Cas beat him to it.

“Yes, it’s a date.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief and grinned at Cas. A door slamming alerted Dean to his time crunch. In just a few seconds, Sam cock-block Winchester would be there to help him into the car, so he needed to act quickly. He used his free hand to grab his phone and thrust it at Cas. He took it just as Sam rounded the front of his car. The look on his face as he caught on to the situation was priceless, and he just _knew_ he’d be getting an earful when they were both in the car.

Once Dean’s phone was back in his hand, Sam grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face the car with more force than necessary, and practically shoved him in. Normally Sam would have gotten a swift kick to the shin for the treatment, but he was still riding the high from the new number in his contacts, and was already planning what he would be texting the man.

“I’ll text you,” Dean promised him just before Sam slammed his door and walked over to the driver’s side. He rolled down the window immediately, not wanting to miss a word of Cas’s reply.

Cas smiled and nodded. “Please. I need those—” he glanced to Sam quickly and then back at Dean. “—updates. Yes, please text me updates on your wound. I’d love to hear how things are going.”

Cas was gone a few moments later, leaving him with a very annoyed brother.

“I can’t believe that you got his number.”

“Hey, I’m a damn _catch._ ”

“Yeah, but you live in Kansas! I hope you told him, at least.”

“Of course I told him. I’m not an idiot. Can you just drive? The water is cooling and I don't want to have to tell Cas that it’s your fault my toe fell off.”

“You gave him a nickname? Great. Just great.”

Dean smiled out the window the entire way home. When they finally got to Sam’s apartment, he rushed ahead to fill the bath, and Dean wobbled behind, texting Cas the entire way.

Dean:

_Just got home and getting in the bath_

_I’ll let you know how it goes ;)_

By the time Dean was in the warm bath, Cas still hadn't replied but he didn't expect him to. Lifeguarding was an important job, especially with idiots on bodyboards around, and he couldn't have his phone out when he was supposed to be watching people. Still, he turned his notification volume on the loudest setting and put his phone within reach. He ended up draining and refilling the bath with hot water three times, and by the end of the second hour the pain was practically gone. His toe, unfortunately, still looked like a half deflated balloon.

The next day his toe was peeling, but at least it was the size it was supposed to be. He left in the morning and immediately started driving south. First order of business was with the restoration shop, so he drove there first and signed his contract, officially becoming an employee of Elite Restorations. Because he couldn't talk to Sam about the good news, he sent his exclamation mark filled text to Cas instead.

Dean:

_I’m officially employed (again)!!!!!!!_

_Now I can quti my other job_

_*quit_

Cas:

_Congratulations! Does this mean you’ll be looking for an apartment soon?_

Dean:

_Going to have lunch and start looking_

Cas:

_I can help if you want_

Dean had to admit that Cas being a part of his apartment hunt put a warm feeling in his chest. He sent back an enthusiastic text, and spent the rest of the day texting pictures of all the best and worst things about each apartment. Some had bad kitchen layouts, ugly carpet, and tile counters. While others had cool retro fixtures, gyms and pools in the complex, and even one that had its own garage. They both agreed that the last one was the best. Baby deserved a roof over her head just as much as he did.

Four weeks later, Dean knocked on Sam’s door with Cas by his side and coffee in their hands. The look on his face when Dean told him to ‘ _Get the fuck in the car, you’re helping me move_ ’ was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> My brother in law just got stung by a stingray and inspired this story.
> 
> Also, please don't pee on stingray wounds or jellyfish stings!


End file.
